Paperback
by Phritzie
Summary: From a prompt on LJ's space wrapped. Jim hasn't received a Christmas gift in a very long time. Naturally, Leonard is the one to rectify that. Rated low, but will up if I get paranoid. Merry Christmas!


**A/N: **Yes, I am shamelessly bribing you into not hating me for taking so long to update The Hangover by posting a little Christmas drabble. :D It's not _exactly_ within the Coffee, Jim series, because it has nothing to do with coffee, but it is a small fill for a prompt on LJ from space_wrapped.

(It perhaps turned out more crack-ish than I intended it to, but it's not… quite… crack. I think/hope.)

**Prompt:** Jim hasn't received a Christmas gift in a very long time.

**Disclaimer:** Works cited here are owned by Gene Roddenberry and Harper Lee. I do not claim ownership of them. Too poor.

**Warnings**: Slash if you squint, or if I'm being truthful – if you aren't blind. I cheat. Friendship to those who would look the other way. Fluffy Scrub-esque "Just Man Love, That's All It Is" and the Christmas spirit kit'n'kaboodle. Be fearful.

* * *

It had been a very long time since anyone had gotten him anything for Christmas.

Jim stared dazedly at the bright package in his hands. It was wrapped with loud green and red paper, and had been trimmed tastefully with ribbon and a generic white bow. It was light in his hands, but heavy for a package, or at least Jim thought so. The size of it was more frightening than its weight, however. It was a rectangular shape, about ten inches by seven inches by one inch. He was bold enough to shake it once, and it made no sound, so the gift took up most of the space within the box.

The person who had given it to him was sitting at a desk in front of a comm. laughing, accompanied by the noise of a smaller, but no less enthusiastic giggle of a small child- of a little girl. His roommate's daughter.

There was hardly any way he could even open it, Jim decided. It was too perfect looking and whatever was inside, he probably didn't deserve. Ever. He snuck a glance at Leonard, who was now smiling a sad smile and wishing Joanna a very merry Christmas and blowing kisses – something which he would have taunted him for later, if he didn't have a heart beating in his chest – and trying not to cry, because Jim could tell he was getting _those eyes_, the ones that said, "Indulge me, I'm cute and I miss you."

"Bye, sweetheart. I love you," Leonard said, his voice rough and deep from unshed tears, "and Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas daddy, I love you too! I'll talk to you soon!" Joanna bounced in her chair, causing the free-standing camera to shake. Leonard laughed again, because doing anything else would hurt too much. Jocelyn came on screen.

"Thank you, Joce. Thank you for giving me that."

"Merry Christmas, Len," she said in answer. The screen went blank.

No, definitely never opening it. Who knows? Maybe it was something edible. Maybe it was something that he could use up. Then it'd be gone and he'd never see it again, and he would forget Leonard even ever gave him something. Like this, he could keep it forever.

He turned in his chair and smiled at him, cementing Jim's decision, but then his mouth twisted down and Leonard's brow crinkled before rising slightly, perplexed.

"Well? Aren'cha gonna see what it is?" he asked.

Oh- that's right. Normal people expect you to open the gifts they give you.

Jim would just have to explain, as gently as possible, why he couldn't. In a way Leonard could understand, a phrase that wouldn't make him sound strange-

"I haven't gotten a present on Christmas since I was like, ten."

_Er- well, that works too._

Leonard blinked and mouthed 'O.K.'

"That is, you know- an actual one. I've gotten some Christmas sexing, before, but..."

The look of general alienation morphed into one of exasperation. "Jim…"

"Not that I consider that note-worthy, or that I particularly remember who it... was… that…"

Disenchantment didn't even really cover what had settled into Leonard's features. Perhaps it was a good idea to stop talking now, or better yet, to leave and then come back when his friend had gotten the chance to calm down and forgive him for being emotionally retarded.

"Jim."

"Yeah?"

"Just open your damn present."

"I'll do that."

First came the bow. He plucked that off without much ceremony, and placed it on the bed next to him, where he had been sitting when Leonard first handed him the shining present.

Next was the ribbon, which while trickier, also came off unscathed. It was a slippery satiny fabric, and Jim had no idea how anyone could manage to get that kind of material to tie or hold around something in the first place. Yet another indication that Leonard was some kind of magical creature.

The wrapping paper made him nervous. He began to carefully lift a corner of the tape holding down one side, when he heard a groan of impatience and smirked.

"Jim, please... just tear it off. You don't need to save the paper- it should be recycled, anyway. Save the damn trimmings if you're so intent on it." Having continued to slowly peel at the adhesive strips, he was misunderstood for ignoring Leonard. "_Please_. Tear it off." Jim took pity on him.

He did.

It was glorious.

And then he dropped it.

"Shit! Sorry, Bones! My hands were shaking."

Leonard's eyebrow lilt bordered on disbelieving, and he released a breath of air that sounded like it might have hurt a little bit on the way out. "Are you okay? It's a book, Jim. Not fine china."

It was a book. It was an amazing book. Leonard had somehow procured for him _To Kill a Mockingbird_, quite possibly his favorite novel of all time, and not just because it took place in the South, really- because Jim was not _that_ pitiful, but because it reminded him in a small way of all his summers in Iowa with Sam, before he got mean and decided to run from everything.

"This is totally my equivalent of china, Bones. Is this a paperback? Oh my God, it is."

"I can't believe how successfully this- _are you crying_?"

Jim didn't answer, simply shuffled over to Leonard with the book clutched to his chest. He had mentioned once to Leonard, off-handed and without any kind of ulterior purpose, that he had a particular love for books- tangible, paper-touch-and-feel-them books. How he had managed to get his hands on one, and one in such good condition when they rarely, _rarely _printed them anymore was a wonder to Jim, but somehow, Leonard had done it- the amazing bastard.

Doing his best to climb into the man's lap, Jim notched his head in-between where Leonard's neck and shoulder met, as a child might, affecting a less than manly sob and proclaimed – or rather mumbled, because his mouth was _almost kind of pressed into his neck_, "No. I am simply basking in the greatness that is my best friend. This is an amazing gift, and you are, by proxy, amazing. Thank you."

Overwhelmed, Leonard stood, dumping Jim on the floor. "God, man! I'm glad you like the book, but keep your girl disease to yourself, _please_!" He stormed off to the kitchen, face red with his embarrassment and whatever else Jim cared to read into it. Head still swimming, Jim thumbed through the pages and sighed dreamily from his place on the floor.

When the put upon doctor returned, cheeks paler and hands clasping a mug of eggnog that was probably spiked, Jim looked up with a smile on his face, rubbing the spine of the book with his forefinger.

There was about a beat of silence before Jim remembered who he was.

"This is obviously an act of love."

"Son, you're going to kill me." Leonard sat on his bed, and scrubbed a hand over his face. It was the principle of the thing- he had to know, right?

Oh well. "Merry Christmas, Bones." Jim beamed, affection for Leonard radiating from his very core as he once again snuggled the book he had been gifted like it was a plushie toy and he was a toddler.

Looking up, and still seriously questioning the sanity of his best friend, Leonard decided that it was probably better to just humor him and get him evaluated later- or perhaps not, because as nice as not having to share a room would be- drinking by himself was a rather lonely affair.

_Of course, you only keep him around for a drinking partner. _Of course.

_Absolute untruth and a half, Leonard McCoy. _Naturally.

Smiling curtly, he drained off some of his eggnog and toasted. "Yeah, Jim. Merry Christmas."

* * *

**A/N: **There you are. :D Next update will either be the failed ice cream experiment, or the next installment of The Hangover. We'll see.


End file.
